Chapter 13

Ibegged and pleaded and assured Loretta that I'd be willing to do anything if she just kept her bloated lips sealed—including letting her get away with murder.

Okay, I didn't say anything of that. I told her my uncle wanted a box of Lottie's donuts delivered fresh—devil's food to be exact. And upon hearing it, she said she had a sudden hankering for devil's food herself.

Figures.

She took off to hunt down a donut and I took off to hunt down a killer.

Okay, so I went home, fed the pooches, and snored violently until morning.

I can only handle so much excitement for one day.

The next morning, I worked my shift at the bakery until four, ate enough glazed crullers to qualify as breakfast, lunch, and dinner, then picked up my pooches and decided to check out the Halloween Spooktacular Fall Festival down at the fairgrounds.

Watson and Spooky hop and yip, as cheery as can be as soon as we arrive.

A gust of cold, crisp fall air greets me, sending shivers down my spine. Dark clouds loom overhead, casting a shadow over the festivities, which seems on par considering the nature of the celebration.

The fairgrounds are a kaleidoscope of colors—mostly orange, black, and purple—while a canopy of twinkle lights shines from above, and there are rows and rows of booths adorned with Halloween decorations.

The place is thick with bodies. The air is alive with excitement and filled with the sound of laughter, as children run from one attraction to the next. Creepy mood music plays over the speakers, and the scent of popcorn and cotton candy wafts through the air, mingling with the aroma of pumpkin spice and caramel apples.

In other words, it's heaven—even if it is mostly disguised as the hot place.

Stalls are decorated with jack-o'-lanterns and skeletons, while ghostly figures dance on strings above the crowds. The Ferris wheel stands tall against the ever-darkening sky, its neon lights flashing bright. The games on the midway are in full swing, with a whole gaggle of teens trying their luck at winning stuffed animals the size of a refrigerator.

Food stands line the pathways, offering an array of treats ranging from hot cider and funnel cakes, to deep-fried candy bars and corn dogs. I'm pretty sure I'm going to hit all of the above. The scent of sizzling sausages and roasted nuts fills the air, tempting me in their direction as well with their savory aromas.

"What should we try first?" I ask as the dogs bark and dance. "How about one of those giant soft pretzels? That way we can share."

Who am I kidding? I'm getting three. With four siblings, I've already shared one too many times.

Once I flew the coop, I vowed never to share a single thing again. Apparently, that includes my body, but that was sort of inadvertent. There haven't been any decent prospects. Not until Cooper, at least.

The three of us navigate the crowd and get in a line twenty deep at the soft pretzel stand. You'd think they were giving away free beer the way the throngs have flocked to this locale. But then, these twisted beauties are fresh baked, so I can't really blame anyone for sticking it out. And with just one more person ahead of us, we're about to make all of our pretzel dreams come true right up until I spot my next suspect walking by briskly and dipping into the crowd.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," I chuff as I wage how long the person in front of me will be before glancing back in the crowd as Johnny the Meatball Marino's dark hair quickly fades out of sight. "Sorry, boys. Duty calls," I say and they both give an exasperated bark as I do my best to tug them away from pretzel heaven. "We'll come back, I promise."

We dart into the crowd, and as if they know the way, Watson and Spooky propel me through the melee amidst the hustle and bustle.

As I weave through the crowds, my heart quickens at the sight of seeing Johnny the Meatball Marino in the wild. I can't believe he's here, swaggering through the fairgrounds like he owns the place, oblivious to the fact that his time is up.

Lucky for me, I have my weapon tucked in my purse. Although, lucky for Johnny, I'm not opening fire in a crowd of thousands.

We follow along as he ducks behind a row of booths and makes contact with each of the vendors along the midway. He keeps digging into his coat pocket and pulling out a wad of something small, not green enough to be cash, and handing it over as he travels from booth to booth repeating the effort.

Once he reaches the end of the line, he takes off and strays into a clearing before heading for the woods.

"Where the heck is he going?" I ask as we try our best to follow behind. I watch as he ducks into the forest, away from the crowds, away from prying eyes, and leans against an evergreen as he fiddles with his phone.

"Here's my chance," I pant as we veer to the left and sneak up within spitting distance.

My heart begins to race as the obvious becomes apparent. There's not a soul around. And he's practically taunting me to nick him with a bullet. And that's exactly what I'm planning to do.

Watson and Spooky curl up around my feet and promptly take a nap while I riffle through my purse, praying to high heaven that I brought my silencer along. As boisterous as that fall festival is, someone out there will be able to identify a gunshot.

And sure enough, I have it! I quickly place it over my Glock as my heart thunders in my chest.

This is it.

With my weapon at the ready and Watson and Spooky at my side, I circle around my mark. Johnny shifts and turns his back to me, so I take a deep breath and steady my aim.

The air grows thick with anticipation as I raise my weapon.

Here goes nothing. But just as I'm about to pull the trigger, a sudden pang of guilt grips me.

Do I really have the heart to send yet another Marino to the pearly gates? Sure, I didn't off Sal. But if I kill Johnny, I'll be killing his mother as well.

I can't do it.

I lower my weapon a notch just as Watson and Spooky jerk at the sound of a chipmunk nearby, and before I know it, each one wraps themselves around a different leg and I'm being pulled apart like a wishbone.

A scream evicts from me, my finger squeezes the trigger, and Johnny dances a jig in front of me.

"What the heck?" He barrels my way and I quickly slip my weapon back into my purse just as he tackles me to the ground. "Get down," he shouts as he covers me with his body. "There's a shooter out here somewhere."

"There is?" I cautiously open an eye as I glance up at him. "I mean, there is," I say, thankfully he has no clue that the shooter was me. And how kind of him to offer to lay down his life for mine, never mind the fact he just got to second base. "I think they're gone now."

"How do you know?" he asks gruffly, his head still on a swivel.

"Because I don't hear any gunfire," I say, shoving him off of me.

"They were using a silencer," he grunts as he helps me to my feet. "What are you doing out here?"

"The same thing you're doing out here," I say. "Trying to find some peace. That Halloween monster mash isn't for the faint of heart." I motion toward the commotion and he nods.

"Same. I'm not here for the thrills. I was just dropping off some coupons for the new restaurant I just opened with my brother, God rest his soul."

I feign shock. "Sal the Sausage was your brother?" Even though we were introduced that night, I doubt he recognizes me without my bunny ears.

He gives a subtle nod as if he were hesitant to admit it.

"I'm so sorry for your loss. I've been to the Tavern of Terror. You've got a real hit on your hands. Your lasagna and meatball with marinara beats out Mangias. But don't tell them I said so."

He belts out a belly laugh and wraps an arm around my shoulders as we make our way out of the woods and into the clearing.

"You're my new best friend," he says. "And look at these guys." He bends over and gives the boys some loving.

"She's your new best friend?" a deep voice emanates from behind, and just as I turn around, the dogs go wild.

"Come here, boys," Cooper says as they run into his arms and he scoops them up.

"Cooper?" I straighten at the sight of him. "What are you doing here?"

"You have impeccable timing, Officer," Johnny says as we step his way.

"Detective. And it's nice seeing you again." He frowns my way. "It's nice seeing you again, too."

I bet. I frown right back.

"You won't believe what just happened," Johnny pants as he casts a glance back into the woods. "Someone just popped off a shot our way."

"A what?" Cooper's voice hikes a notch just as both dogs lick his face at once, and I'll admit, it's an adorable look.

"As in bullets." Johnny nods. "They were coming from the woods. As soon I turned around, I saw this sweet thing walking her dogs, so I jumped right on her. You know, to protect her."

"Aww," I coo. "He called me sweet."

Cooper's eyes flit my way and he's still frowning. "So sweet," he says it, but I can tell he doesn't mean it. "I'll call it in, Johnny. I'll have the security beefed up at the fair, too." Cooper makes a quick call and then shoves his phone back into his pocket. "Any news on who could have shot your brother?"

Johnny ticks his head to the side. "No news on my part, but if those bullets are any indication, I think the killer is after me, too." He sheds a short-lived smile. "It sounds like you might have your work cut out for you. Loretta and I are happy you're on the case. You're like family to me now." He gives Cooper a mock sock to the arm. "If I can help at all, just let me know." He starts to take off and I scramble in his direction.

"Wait," I say as I catch up to him. "There was a dark-haired man having it out with Sal the night he was killed. He was tall, had dark eyes, and was brooding. Any idea who he could be?"

"I know exactly who he is." Johnny's expression darkens as he casts a glance at the festivities. "Sergio Sorrentino. He's a part owner at Mangias. The guy's a dirtbag." He nods back to Coop then me. "Have a good night. Stay safe." He takes off and quickly disappears into the crowd.

"Welp." I turn to face Cooper. "It's just you and me."

He nods my way with a stone-cold expression. "And a madman or madwoman with bullets."

Why do I get the feeling I'm in trouble?